


i am a human being capable of doing terrible things

by tricksterity



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AOU didn't happen, Dark Steve, Established Relationship, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, briefly touches on steve's depression, civil war didn't happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7056427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterity/pseuds/tricksterity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jarvis once again spoke up over the klaxon, but this time he was hesitant with the news. “I believe that I have deduced a specific reason that the Hydra agents are here. This is no random attack, as Agent Rumlow is with them. They are here for Sergeant Barnes. They mean to take him back alive.” Tony quite literally recoiled at how quickly Steve’s face shut down, expression shuttering into something flat and deadly. </p><p>Tony Stark was a smart, capable and attentive individual. He’d even go so far as to say that was an understatement.</p><p>But Tony now knew how wrong he had been about Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i am a human being capable of doing terrible things

**Author's Note:**

> This is so self-indulgent holy shit.

* * *

 

Tony Stark was not an unobservant nor unintelligent man – his IQ (very high), current job (savior of the world) and legacy (technology used around the world) reflected this. Sometimes when it came to noticing certain things about people he was slightly slow on the uptake, like the fact that Agent Coulson had a first name, and that his new paralegal was actually a double (triple?) agent working for SHIELD (which technically wasn’t his fault for not noticing, it _was_ Natasha’s job to trick people).

 

Tony also knew that he could figure out people pretty well, and most of the time noticed when people were lying to him or tried to pull the wool over his eyes (again, a certain ex-KGB assassin excluded from this list). All in all, Tony Stark was a smart, capable and attentive individual. He’d even go so far as to say that was an understatement.

 

But Tony now knew how _wrong_ he had been about Steve Rogers.

 

Tony had never particularly liked Steve, and that wasn’t really any fault on Cap’s part. Tony had grown up hearing no praise for himself yet constant praise for the tragically elusive Captain America, and the search for him that had all but consumed Howard Stark. As soon as he’d met the good Captain in person Tony was already inclined towards negative feelings, and Steve hadn’t exactly helped out considering that their first conversation had been an argument prompted by the fishy metaphysical fingers of Loki’s sceptre.

 

Even after New York, Tony could acknowledge that Steve was a brilliant tactician and leader, but as a person… he was goddamn boring. He seemed to fit quite well into his grandpa, old-man stickler mould and showed no signs of bringing himself out of it. He listened to old music, watched old movies, moped about and wore _khaki pants_. Tony had tried to sympathise with the guy, considering that he’d just come out of the ice realising that everyone he knew and loved had died, but he didn’t exactly make it easy.

 

Tony had never even seen a glimpse of the scrappy Steve Rogers that was described by Peggy Carter and the Howling Commandoes as told to them by Bucky Barnes; about a guy who barely reached 5’3” and was 100lb soaking wet who never once backed down from a fight even when his blood covered the floor because he did what was right.

 

Tony had never once considered that the All-American Hero, the Star Spangled Man With A Plan, who spent his days stuck in the past, unwilling to accept the future, was going through the motions of life like a dead man.

 

He hadn’t realised Steve Rogers thought he was a ghost of an age long past until he saw the man come to life under the watchful gaze of a Romanian-American turned Russian assassin with a metal arm that had Tony salivating. It had been a year since he’d managed to corral Steve into moving to the tower full time in case of emergency, and only five months since said assassin had shown up soaking wet and bloody in the lobby, looking both terrifying and absolutely pathetic.

 

The transformation that Steve had gone through since the exact moment he’d burst out through the lobby stairwell – too impatient to wait for the elevator – after Jarvis had called him down was… quite honestly one of the most mind-blowing things Tony had ever witnessed, and he dealt with quantum metaphysics and imaginary numbers on an hourly basis.

 

Steve Rogers, whom Tony had previously categorised as “Sad Virginal Old Catholic Man Who Can Coincidentally Kick Ass Occasionally” had transformed in front of him. Steve’s face lit up: mouth splitting into a grin, slight crinkles forming around the eyes that had an honest-to-god _spark_ in them. The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes/Whoever the fuck he was now, looked both wary and sheepish as he made eye contact with Steve.

 

“Bucky?” Steve had breathed, like he was hoping beyond a hope that what he was seeing was real, and the bloody, dripping-wet assassin in the lobby had shrugged.

 

“I was hoping you could tell me,” he’d replied.

 

Now, five months later, Tony could barely believe that the man sitting on the couch sharing a pint of cookie dough Ben & Jerry’s with his gay ex-assassin boyfriend was the same man whom Tony had said that everything special about had come from a bottle.

 

Bucky – that was what he insisted on being called now, though he conceded to let Nat call him _Yasha_ , and grudgingly allowed _Vanilla Ice_ from Wilson – was comfortably curled into Steve’s side, tentatively allowing a smile to curl his lips up as he laughed at the Netflix show they were watching. Bucky and Steve were three seasons into Leverage, which they’d been binging for a few days now, and had roped the rest (read: _most_ ) of the team into watching it with them.

 

Tony was liking the show so far and made a mental note to ask Jarvis to add it to his queue. He was seated cross-legged on the coffee table, which had been shoved off to the side so that he wouldn’t get between the disgustingly happy (if still a little uncertain at times) couple and the television while he tinkered with a few new bots he had been thinking about making.

 

Wilson was passed out on another couch, blanket tucked gently around him by Steve, out like a light. Nat and Clint were canoodling together, though Tony wasn’t too sure whether they were flirting or conspiring to invade a small country together. That, and their whispering was too quiet, and Tony’s ASL was a little (read: a lot) rusty. There hadn’t been any signs that looked like vicious stabbing yet, but they might’ve made up their own variations. _Invade a small country_ could look like falling rain, and _kill a man_ could be a love heart.

 

Everything was relatively calm – Steve was being gay as fuck (both in the homosexual and happy way – well, technically bisexual, but still) and was barely taking his eyes off Bucky to watch the television. Bucky would get annoyed at this and jab Steve in the side, insistent that he watched the goddamn show, and Steve would just unapologetically grin and place a kiss somewhere on Bucky’s face. The last few months hadn’t just been transformative in Steve (whom Tony would now never refer to as anything but That Sassy Little Shit Who Can Kick Ass Occasionally) but also in Bucky. He still had bad days, still didn’t want to leave the safety of the tower the majority of the time, still hesitated in rooms with floor-to-ceiling windows… but he was definitely the guy Tony had seen in the old film reels, if a little different.

 

Neither of them were ghosts anymore. They were happy.

 

And of course that was when the TV turned off, the lights flipped over to the red bulbs and the intruder klaxon started to blare. Everyone in the room leapt to their feet – including Wilson, who still had a soldier’s instincts and was wide awake instantly – and reached for the nearest weapons.

 

“Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means,” Sam griped as he took a handgun from Natasha and headed for his wingpack that sat in the doorway.

 

Jarvis answered for Tony. “Sir, the building has been breached at both the lobby and the roof. It will take the assailants less than four minutes to reach your current position. Based on the codes they are using through the comms system, it is highly likely that the intruders are Hydra,” he informed them all calmly.

 

At his words, everyone in the room froze.

 

Tony, like the other three in the room, immediately turned from what they were doing to look at Steve and Bucky. Steve had taken Bucky’s hand, the metal one, and threaded their fingers together for comfort. In his other hand, he held his shield in a white-knuckled grip.

 

Bucky looked as though he’d just been stabbed in the heart.

 

Jarvis once again spoke up over the klaxon, but this time he was hesitant with the news. “I believe that I have deduced a specific reason that the Hydra agents are here. This is no random attack, as Agent Rumlow is with them. They are here for Sergeant Barnes. They mean to take him back alive.”

 

Tony quite literally recoiled at how quickly Steve’s face shut down, expression shuttering into something flat and deadly. Tony had seen that expression on the Winter Soldier’s face during the attack at the Triskelion. He remembered thinking idly once that he’d never seen Steve’s dark side, wouldn’t even know what buttons to press to get him to snap without a magical mind sceptre in the room.

 

Looks like all you had to do was threaten Bucky Barnes.

 

Clint boosted Natasha up to she could grab the edge of a ventilation shaft and she slid smoothly inside. She emerged a few seconds later with a duffel bag she threw down to Clint, and he unzipped it on the floor to reveal an entire goddamn arsenal. Wilson couldn’t help but roll his eyes and huff out a laugh, and he looked to Steve – but he wasn’t laughing along.

 

“Rumlow’s mine,” Steve vowed, his words solemn yet loud enough to be heard over the blaring sound that shifted them all immediately into emergency mode.

 

“No arguments from me, man,” Wilson replied, grabbing a few knives that he tossed to Bucky. The assassin caught them deftly and despite the fact that he was only in jeans and an oversized shirt (which Tony had thought was impossible considering that the man was built like a brick shithouse), he still managed to find safe places to sequester them away.

 

“You ready for this?” Steve asked Bucky, pulling on the man’s hand so he’d make eye contact. Bucky looked apprehensive but willing, and he tugged Steve down to press a quick kiss to the man’s lips.

 

It was at that moment that Jarvis interrupted again. “Sir, it appears I may have been incorrect about the time frame you had.”

 

“What d’you mean, J?” Tony asked, grabbing some gauntlets that he’d stashed by the door to the apartment – he’d kept his promise to Pepper and had gotten rid of his suits, but that didn’t mean he was useless.

 

Natasha swore in Russian, and Tony whirled around to see a black figure hanging outside the huge window that took up the entirety of the wall behind the television.

 

“They seem to have found a shortcut,” Jarvis informed them dryly as the Hydra agent took something out of his pocket and pressed it to the glass. A high-pitched frequency emerged from the device and within seconds the glass shattered completely. The Hydra agent got ready to swing themselves into the room, at least four guns were pointed in their direction, but Steve got there first.

 

He swiped a knife from Bucky’s waistband, stalked across the room, and sliced the rope holding the agent up.

 

The agent’s screams could be heard as they fell ninety-five floors to their death below, and Steve watched the entire thing.

 

Steve turned back around just as the clattering of Hydra goons could be heard a few floors up, and his eyes were dark and dead as Bucky passed him his shield. Steve then took a few moments – despite the fact that Hydra couldn’t have been more than a few floors away – to grab Bucky by the nape of his neck. Steve pulled him into a searing, devouring kiss, as if to remind himself exactly what he was killing for.

 

Tony tore his eyes away from them to watch Clint grab a rifle from the duffle bag, fingers twitching as though for a bow, and Sam was checking over his semi-automatic. Natasha had already holstered two handguns to her thighs and was slipping a shoulder holster onto her back. Tony reached into the bag and grabbed a handgun himself, though his gauntlets would hopefully get them through the coming fight.

 

By the time he looked back at Steve and Bucky, the two of them seemed to be centering themselves as they pressed their foreheads together. Tony could’ve sworn that their breathing slowed to being in synchronisation with each other.

 

“We need to get out of here, we’re exposed with that shattered window,” Clint informed them quietly. “We’ve still got home turf advantage, we know the building better than they could ever hope to. With Stark’s firewalls they could only have some very basic blueprints.”

 

“The team in the lobby will probably be about five minutes behind the ones coming from up top,” Natasha continued. “There’ll be two waves of them at least. We can’t be sure if they’ll have reinforcements or air support. Any way we can call in the big guns if things get too heavy?”

 

“Bruce is off the grid and I’m sure if we’re really in the shit Heimdall will let Thor know, but for now we’re on our own,” Tony replied.

 

“Fine,” Steve piped up. “We don’t need anyone else.”

 

“Uh, Cap… I appreciate your whole won’t-go-down-without-a-fight 1930’s back alley attitude but if we’ve got the entirety of what’s left of Hydra coming after us to take back their Soldier I think we’re going to need more than us, even if we are pretty good,” Tony reluctantly informed him.

 

Tony, in the privacy of his mind, immediately retracted his statement when Steve turned away from Bucky to look at him. Instantly, almost instinctively, Tony knew that there was no way that Hydra would be succeeding today, not with Steve as furious as he was. Nothing would survive him, not if they were trying to take Bucky Barnes.

 

With a nod, the six of them hurried out of the apartment and down three flights of stairs onto Natasha’s floor, where they decided to make their stand – it was the only floor of the building with enough ammo and weaponry that they could realistically outlast as many goons that Hydra threw at them.

 

The door burst open and a man entered, a gruesome mask covering his face and a crudely painted X across his chest, fists clenched and ready to go. He only got a few words out before Steve strode across the room and slammed the shield straight into his face, but it was enough for Tony to recognise him as Rumlow. Steve grabbed the man, and despite the heavy metal artillery the guy was sporting, threw him clear across the room.

 

Steve ran to where Rumlow fell, giving the rest of them the opportunity to open fire at the Hydra agents that came pouring through the door. It was frightening just how fast the bodies dropped – Bucky and Clint were incapable of missing headshots, Natasha was just as good as them, and Sam had been in the army long enough to shoot well. Tony was by far the worst shot out of them all, but considering that his gauntlets didn’t have to be as accurate, it was more satisfying to blast them into the wall.

 

From behind them, Tony heard a gruesome squelching noise that would haunt his dreams. He turned to see Rumlow unmoving on the floor, the shield firmly in the area where his neck used to be.

 

Steve grabbed his blood covered shield and aimed his gun at the Hydra agents, coming over to stand next to Bucky.

 

“Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> **Check out my tumblr for commission infoHERE!**


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